The Young Guns
by Memphis Long
Summary: K' and Rock Howard form an uneasy alliance in a brand-new CAPCOM vs SNK tournament. R&R would be greatly appreciated...
1. Prologue

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Prologue...  
  
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I never knew my father. Doesn't really matter to me if I know him or not. The only thing I know is that the deadbeat left me to forage for myself at a very young age. Why he did that, I'll never know.  
  
Did he hate me? I don't know. Do I hate him? I don't know...  
  
From what Terry has told me, it was the same way that my father was raised. Learn to fend for yourself in youth, and you shall never know defeat or suffering as an elder... But yet Terry defeated him?  
  
...Who cares about the elder years? I'm not even 21 yet...  
  
I didn't start off wanting to be a fighter anyway, but nonetheless, Terry taught me how to scrap with the best of them. He was worried when he saw that I had the same attributes of my father. He often asked himself, "How did he learn Hakkyoukuseiken without ever being taught it?", but it must be in my blood.  
  
My blood...  
  
I noticed in my travels and during fighting that if my father actually was nearby, or if I were to get angry enough during battle, the blood in my veins would run hot. Not only that, but the power of Hakkyoukuseiken would become unstable as well. I learned that the last time I used the Raising Storm, one of my father's most potent and deadly techniques. After I performed the move, much to my own surprise at that, I watched in part- fascination, part-horror as my right hand became engulfed in a blue wispy flame... Not only that, but the energy that manifested in that hand... Well, it hurt. Badly. I grabbed the right wrist with my left hand to stifle the pain, and luckily, it subsided. It was then I realized that I would need more training, should I actually want to be able to control the awesome power of Hakkyoukuseiken.  
  
Terry Bogard cannot teach me. His brother Andy, cannot as well.  
  
There's only one man who can teach me how to control the deadly power of Hakkyoukuseiken...  
  
That man, is Geese Howard.  
  
Geese Howard is dead. Or so I've heard...  
  
You want to know who I am?  
  
Rock. Rock Howard. Geese's only son. Geese Howard's only son, who is hellbent on defeating him in battle one day. This is why I'm here. This is why I'm at the new tournament...  
  
It's not about revenge. It's about...  
  
...Time.  
  
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At least he *knows* who- or what, he is...  
  
I don't know what to call myself. I don't really even know if I'm alive, or a machine.  
  
But that doesn't really matter, though, does it?  
  
I have a story to tell... I'm a fighter, similar to Rock. But my story differs from his in many ways. His father left him, which is pretty heartbreaking, but with me, I don't even know if I was actually *born*.  
  
You heard right.  
  
From what little information I've gathered about myself, I seem to be a human machine. No, scratch that. A human weapon. My DNA is supposedly copied or mixed from another fighter that I've seen in battle two or three times. How they got his blood? I don't know. How did they inject it into me? I don't know. Hell, at this rate, I don't want to know. I do know, that I once worked for a corporation called NESTS.  
  
I think I might've been an assassin...  
  
No, I'm not Cammy White. Idiot...  
  
At any rate, I left the secret organization of my own accord, but found out I wasn't very similar to everyone else. Why?  
  
Not everyone else can control fire in one hand like I can.  
  
It didn't attract stares (or women, for that matter), but it definitely helped when it came to fighting. I can't remember the last time I lost a battle. My victims- er, opponents had all said that I remind them of one man. Did I mention his name yet? If I haven't, I will now.  
  
Kyo Kusanagi. They say I'm similar to Kyo Kusanagi. I don't take it as an insult, or anything of the like, because for all I know, I may *be* Kyo Kusanagi. Or at least a mere copy of him. What am *I* doing here? I'm here to find some truths as well.  
  
First off, I want to help Rock find his father. Second, I want some answers regarding my existence from whomever is in control of the NESTS organzation. And third...  
  
...I'd like to battle this Kyo Kusanagi character one day. So I could find out firsthand who's the clone. Me, or him.  
  
Who am I?  
  
I don't have a name. The NESTS organization never gave me one.  
  
...But *I* did.  
  
I call myself K.  
  
Remember the name...  
  
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End Prologue  
  
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- How does K' and Rock Howard make it into the same story without there being total chaos and a huge conflict in storylines? Find out when I start writing this story. And it's my first writing venture into the Fatal Fury\KoF realm (not to mention, my first posted story in about a year), so take pity on me. lol - 


	2. Chapter One

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Chapter One - Rock Howard (Part One)  
  
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In retrospect, I somewhat figured I'd do this sooner or later. Terry raised me like I was his younger brother. But, similar to the legendary lonesome wolf, I too, had to break away from the pack. When I told Terry of my future endeavor, the first thing he asked was if I was sure that I wanted to do this. I knew in my heart it had to be done. I wanted answers...  
  
I wanted them *now*.  
  
It was about time.  
  
It was about *me*.  
  
That's what I told Terry, and he understood. After all, he too, still had a bone to pick with my ne'er-do-well father. As did Andy. As did the whole world that I knew around me, seemingly. But whereas both Bogard brothers seemingly had proclaimed my father dead or simply 'whereabouts unknown', I knew better. A man with so much power, so much influence had to be *somewhere* in this world.  
  
I made it my goal to find him.  
  
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"Hey, look who it is... South Town's young gun!"  
  
"Whoo...! Lookin' sharp there, Howard!"  
  
"You seem unusually... *gay*, today, Rock. Care for a fruit? Ha!"  
  
Rock ignored the insults and putdowns that he heard from the local knuckleheads in Terry's home of South Town. After all, he heard the disparaging remarks all the time. He simply chose to deem them insignificant. So what if they thought he was gay; Rock knew what he was, and *that* wasn't one of them. His attire, a short cherry-red leather bomber jacket that seemed to be two sizes two short in length, combined with a black shirt and matching black jeans always seemed to favor him in the ladies eyes, so Rock wasn't going to change his dress code anytime. Walking with a duffel bag slung over his shoulder, a few changes of clothing and some valuable items being all that Rock carried with him. Looking towards his destination, a train station, Rock almost smiled.  
  
"*At least Terry let me go. I figured he'd want to watch over me or something...*", the son of Geese thought to himself. It wouldn't matter anyway. As soon as he got on the Amtrak train out of town, there would be no more Terry, no more Andy, no more anything. The only thing *this* lone wolf would know here on would be the hunt.  
  
The search, was on...  
  
"I said, ticket please...", a man said, breaking into Rock's thoughts. Upon hearing the man's stern authorative voice in his ears, the younger Howard quickly handed the ticket to the conductor. Upon checking it to see if it was a fake (heightened security measures called for this), the conductor smiled.  
  
"That's a long way you're traveling, young man...", he replied. Rock nodded solemly. Upon seeing Rock's mood, the conductor then asked: "...trying to get away from something?"  
  
"Naw... trying to find something. Someone, that is...", Rock responded, looking off into the distance. The conductor punched the ticket, and smiled brightly.  
  
"Well, I hope you find this person, whoever it be."  
  
"I do too, sir...", Rock said, walking over to his designated seat. Plopping down as if already tired from a long journey, Rock secretly hoped he didn't have to tell any more people his goals on this trip. South Town to the West Coast was a very, very long trip, and what he could use more than ever right now was simple silence to think. Think about what would happen if and when he confronted his estranged father, and what would happen when-  
  
"ALL ABOARD! This train, heading to All Points West, is now leaving the station in three high minutes! All aboard!", blared the conductor from his booth inside the train. Rock lazily gazed at some more people gather onto the train and find their seats before staring out the window. Then, sudden inspiration grasped him. Reaching into his duffel bag, he pulled out a cap.  
  
Terry's cap. Well, not his main one, but a throwback that the elder Bogard kept if he ever lost his orignal. Rock put it on, and flipped it backwards (the cool way, as he'd often say). Then, upon seeing how many people were actually getting on this train, he turned it back to the front, so hopefully if anyone wanted to strike up a quick conversation with him, he could feign sleep.  
  
"*Damn... I'm (yawn), sleepy already...*", Rock realized, hearing the doors to the Amtrack train slide to a close. Propping his head up on the palm of his hand, Rock began to think about his upcoming journey.  
  
Was he up to it?  
  
Was his heart into it?  
  
Could he confront his father after more than 15 years of desertion?  
  
He didn't know for sure. But he'd be damned if he wasn't going to find out now...  
  
His head slowly sunk deeper into his palm. Before he knew it, the train was moving, and he was fast asleep.  
  
Let the journey begin...  
  
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Chapter One - K' (Part Two)  
  
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"...You came here, thinking you could defeat *me*!?! Insolent fool!", the voice boomed in K's ears. The shadowy menace battered him to and fro like a twig caught in the throes of a windstorm. He was a fool to get up from the attack, but his pride wouldn't let him admit defeat. His opponent was amused, and quite possibly thrilled, with the fact that K' actually regained his composure enough to stand himself up on two feet under his own power.  
  
That meant he could beat more sense into him, after all...  
  
"You don't quite understand it, do you...", the figure replied with a smack to K's face. Before K' could hit the ground, the ominous man caught him, and lifted him high into the air. Their eyes met and stayed locked onto each other. K's eyes looked weary, even slightly fearful, but yet still had a hint of defiance in them. The other one? His eyes were simply red with power. Power that made K's blood run cold.  
  
"You don't quite understand... But, I'm willing to be the teacher in such a *desperate* situation...", the shadowed person replied, his dark voice thick with sarcasm. Holding up K's with his right, the menacing figurehead known to only a select few as Krizalid then took his left fist, and rammed it with extreme prejudice into K's abdomen.  
  
The blow sent shockwaves, hard and fast, through K's body. He coughed up blood again; he sure as hell didn't know how much of his own spilled in the battle, but he would kill *himself* if he didn't bleed Krizalid soon... Krizialid, on the other hand, finding the damage already done to K' not of his liking, simply dropped the leather-clad fighter to the floor in an untidy heap. K' hit the floor hard, but had the presence of mind to stay down this time... He slowed his breathing as Krizalid knelt down to speak to K', mainly to rub more of his triumph in his understudy's face.  
  
"Have you learned the lesson yet? That I brought you into this world, and that I can take you out?", Krizalid asked K'. He didn't respond, much to Krizalid's chagrin. So when the leader of the NESTS cartel knelt down farther to investigate whether or not he killed K', he was shocked when the leather-wearing upstart surprised him with a snap of his fingers and a quick wave of fire seared his face.  
  
"Arg! Damn you to hell, K'!", bellowed Krizalid as he reached up to feel his singed face. As he did that, K' scrambled for his life and used what little energy he had left to run and duck cover behind several hot pipes. He didn't ascertain what Krizalid's counter for that was, however... Bringing his left arm to chest level, Krizalid simply pushed outward with his hand as if moving an unseen object, and a burst of flame shot forward from his palm, heading directly for the piping K' used as refuge.  
  
K' heard the roar of the flame that Krizalid produced, but couldn't get to his feet in time. The pipes exploded all around him, sending chemicals and hot steam everywhere. He had to shut his eyes to keep the excrutiating feeling of the heat from killing him, but K', in a passing thought, figured that one or two of the chemicals spurting from the pipes had to be fatal, so he'd die anyway. And as soon as his body was on the ground, marred, shaking and broken from the shock of being scalded with so many heated materials, K' heard Krizalid's still-taunting, forever-mocking voice laughing at him, telling him that he could never defeat his own creator...  
  
"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!"  
  
K' woke up, screaming. With wide eyes, he looked to his let, then to his right. And then, just to be safe, glanced momentarily up. Walls, cieling. Everything checked out. K' wiped the cold sweat off his forehead and sighed.  
  
"Another nightmare...", he whispered to himself. K' wasn't surprised, though. It happened to him at least three times a week. The other four days he'd just sleep fitfully, or maybe not even sleep at all. Each dream was more horrendous than the last, with Krizalid always finding new ways to inflict torture upon his "creation", like a sick man playing god, which is basically what he had done to K'.  
  
K' shuddered at the thought of it, but waved it off. The dream was still fresh in his mind. Hot pipes, another battle to the death inside some sort of factory. He chuckled. This one was a little bit more cliche than the previous ones... Getting up out of his hotel room bed, K' walked over to the window. Brushing the curtains aside, he stared hopelessly out into the distance, trying to get peace of mind.  
  
It wasn't going to happen. K' sighed ruefully. At himself, Krizalid, the world. It didn't seem to matter. He had enough anger inside him to half- fill the Grand Canyon, but unfortunately, no one to exert that rage on. K' shook his head. He quickly decided to leave this place. It was about time, anyway. You had to actually move from place to place to actually be labeled a "drifter". And seeing as how he was already on his search to find Krizalid, K' figured he better get moving soon. There was plenty of evidence that Krizalid may still be alive, and K' was going to see to it that Krizalid and the NESTS cartel were eradicated. It was going to be tough, K' reasoned...  
  
..."And I'm as tough as they come."  
  
Already dressed in his all-leather fighting outfit, he slung a matching leather duffel bag over his shoulder. Throwing a wad of crumpled bills on the dresser drawer, K' quietly left.  
  
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End of Chapter One  
  
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- There you have it. Chapter one is in the books. As soon as I flesh out the storylines, there's going to be more action. Sooner or later. More than likely, K' and Rock probably aren't even going to cross paths until a little later in the story, say around chapter 4. At any rate, I'd appreciate the ol R&R, cuz if I don't get any, I usually start to cry. Just kidding. Next chapter in a week or so. Oyasuminasai. -  
  
- Memphis Long, the only man who can perform a mid-air Genocide Cutter. 


End file.
